Where the Treetops Glisten
by AndAllThatMishigas
Summary: A post-Christmas gift to theletterdee, who is such a wonderful part of keeping this fandom afloat. Here's some wintery Malice fluff for you.


**Where the Treetops Glisten**

Alice had been more surprised by that gift than anything else in her whole life. Which certainly said a lot. She had been conditioned to not expect much, and when she did expect something, it was never anything good. She had learned through trials and tribulations to keep her head up and her back against the wall so she could do her job and be out of everyone's way. The best she had hoped for in life was to be left alone.

But then she had worked with Lucien Blake, and he and Jean had somehow taken awkward Alice under their wings. And that, of course, led her to Matthew Lawson.

For the first time in her life, Alice was not ridiculed, was not merely tolerated, was not avoided. No, Matthew Lawson _cherished_ her. It was the most unlikely and incredible thing. Matthew loved her. He told her and he showed her. Every single day. He had even asked her to marry him, and when she had said no—not that she did not want to, she just had no idea of how such a thing would even work, how her life would change in ways she could not fathom, and she was terrified by the notion of belonging to a man—Matthew had not scorned her. He had listened to her concerns and he had taken note of each one, and he had kissed her softly and said, "If any of that changes, you let me know. I'll still be here." And he was. He was still with her. He still took the time to bring her coffee each and every morning at the hospital and kiss her and tell her that he loved her. In spite of it all, Matthew loved her.

And oh how she loved him. She loved his hidden wit and humor amidst a rather grumpy demeanor. She loved that he appreciated quiet contemplation just as much as a lively discussion. He liked reading and learning as well as sport. He'd showed her all about cricket and the mathematical statistics involved, which she quite enjoyed, even if the game seemed overly complex and pointless. But Matthew wanted to share with her and wanted to know her, and he was always kind and gentle, and for all of that, she loved him.

They had spent Christmas with the Blakes as they had for the last three years, only this year it was just the four of them. The young people all had plans with their families or the families of their partners. The phone rang off the hook as Charlie and Danny and Rose and Christopher and even Jack called to wish Jean and Lucien and everyone else a merry Christmas. And in between the chaos, Lucien opened his gifts—a beautiful knitted jumper from Jean, a rare ancient Greek medical book from Alice, and a bottle of nice scotch from Matthew. And Matthew opened his gifts—a scarf from Jean, a mystery novel from Lucien, and a new watch from Alice engraved with their initials which made him drop the box and kiss her soundly to the applause of the Blakes. And Jean opened her gifts—a diamond bracelet from Lucien, a book on French cooking from Matthew, and a skein brilliant blue cashmere yarn from Alice who had gotten the idea when Jean had mentioned wanting to knit something nice for her granddaughter for the winter. And Alice then opened her gifts, for which she had absolutely no expectations—a pretty silver and blue quartz brooch from Jean who said it would match her eyes, a box of her favorite caramels from Lucien who had witnessed her secret sweet tooth on occasion, and finally a small envelope from Matthew.

Jean and Lucien, sitting sickeningly sweetly on top of each other, watched Alice open her final gift with huge smiles. Obviously they knew what Matthew had gotten for her. She felt mildly suspicious as she opened the envelope and two pieces of thick paper fell out. She saw a blue logo for PAN AM and the word "Heathrow" which sounded very familiar but she could not pinpoint quite where. She looked up at Matthew with a confused, furrowed brow.

"Plane tickets," he explained. "We're flying out in two days from Melbourne Airport to London. It's all booked and paid for. Ten-day trip."

"WHAT!?" she exclaimed in shock.

A flicker of panic showed in Matthew's face. "I…I thought it would be nice."

In an attempt to calm her, Lucien interjected, "I've already cleared it with the hospital. I'll be assisting with the pathology in the morgue while you're away."

"And I'll help you pack. You can borrow anything of ours from our trips that you need," Jean added.

Alice was at a loss. "We…we're going to London?"

Matthew finally smiled. "Yes, sweetheart, we are."

Three days later, after holding Matthew's hand so hard it nearly broke the metacarpals, Alice Harvey got on her first airplane flight and landed a whole day later at Heathrow Airport in London.

The first thing she noticed was the cold. It was bitterly cold at the end of December in England. It was winter there, very unlike the warm summer they'd had in Australia where they'd left.

"Is it always like this in the winter?" she asked Matthew, bundling herself in her coat as best she could as they waited in the taxi line.

"Lucien said to expect snow," he replied.

"Snow!?" she replied in horror. "What will we do?"

"Same as everyone else, I expect. Get a little cold and wet when we're outside and then go back inside to huddle for warmth," he told her with a small smile.

But Alice was not quite convinced. She could not imagine what people did in snow. How did the cars stay on the roads? Could you even see the roads? Did the trees get heavy and fall over? And was snow even heavy? Or was it just a powdery dusting? She'd seen pictures, of course. Seen things on television. But it never quite seemed real. The idea that frozen precipitation could be anything less than terrifying.

It was on New Year's Eve that the snow began. They'd had two bitterly cold but dry days, going to the Tower of London and the British Museum. Matthew had planned almost exclusively historical sites and museums for them to visit, knowing that Alice would appreciate that. And at the end of each of those cold but lovely days, they had retired to the hotel rooms that Matthew had booked. She had been quite concerned, initially, that he'd spent too much money. But he informed her that an old school friend of his ran that particular hotel and when Matthew explained the situation, that he and Alice were engaged—which was a bit of a fib, but she did not hold it against him, given the reasoning—so Matthew was allowed to book two rooms for just slightly above the price of one single room due to the added bonus of a doorway adjoining the two. It was not the most appropriate of things, but given the nature of their relationship, Alice quite liked that she and Matthew got ready for bed in their respective rooms and then he would come join her in hers where they would fall asleep cuddled together to avoid the cold.

And when she woke up on December the thirty-first, she gently removed Matthew's arm from around her waist and opened the curtains with a gasp.

"What's wrong?" Matthew asked immediately. Even groggy, he was concerned about her well-being.

"It's…white!"

With a bit of fumbling for his cane, Matthew shuffled over to the window with Alice. "It must have snowed during the night," he realized with a smile.

The sun was shining bright but everything was covered with a blanket of white. She marveled at it. "I've never seen snow before."

"Never?"

"Not outside pictures."

Matthew's smile grew. "Come on. Let's get dressed and go over to the park."

"What for?"

"It's your first snow. We've got to do all the snowy things people do. We can build a snowman and have a snowball fight and make snow angels."

She started to laugh. "We aren't really, are we?"

"As best as this bum leg will let me," he insisted.

"But why?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

Matthew gave her a soft, affectionate smile. "Because, sweetheart," he began before kissing her gently. "I want you to have everything good the world has to offer. And despite the cold and wet, snow is wonderful and magical. And you deserve it."

Alice was struck dumb at his sweet words. She blushed and nodded and gave him another kiss. He returned to his room to dress for the day and she did the same.

They agreed to have breakfast after exploring the snow. They made their way a few blocks to the park where there were already children running around and playing all sorts of snow-related games.

After watching the children for a moment, Alice understood what they were doing and tried for herself. She paused from walking with Matthew, and he stopped to watch her. She bent down and got a great handful of snow between her mittens, compacting it into a ball. She glanced up at Matthew who gave her an encouraging little nod. And with a little toss, she threw it right at his chest. It exploded on impact, leaving a starburst of white on his black coat. They both laughed.

"Your first snowball. How was that?" he asked.

"Quite satisfactory, thank you."

Matthew grinned and kissed her cheek. His lips and her face were both quite cold, so the numbness did not let them feel too much. But the gesture was important to them both.

Throughout that morning, they both threw another dozen snowballs and made an attempt at a snowman, choosing instead to watch some of the children make one of their own. And by the time they went back to hotel, they were both pink-faced and smiling.

There had been certain moments of Alice Harvey's life that she knew she would never forget as long as she lived. She could close her eyes and remember every detail of those moments. Most were not ones she wanted to revisit, but some were quite lovely.

And one of those moments was this. Lying in the snow in a small park in London, making a snow angel while Matthew Lawson called out suggestions and helpful tips on how to move her arms and legs to make the angel, staring up at the sparkling, snow-covered trees. Strange, she thought, that they did not fall over with the weight of the snow. But trees are like that. Sturdier than you'd expect. And snow, she had learned, was a magical thing indeed. Both heavier than one might imagine and yet a fine powder of cold, clean beauty.

A wondrous moment indeed.


End file.
